


True Love’s Kiss and No More Roses Ever

by lunaraindrop



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Canon Mention of Alcohol and Drug Use, Canon-Typical Violence, Disney References, Hurt Quentin Coldwater, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Protective Eliot Waugh, Romance, Roses Being Magical Matchmaking Bastards, Sherlock (TV) References, True Love's Kiss, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23414716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaraindrop/pseuds/lunaraindrop
Summary: Prompt from @justlikeregularchickens:"I don't think we have nearly enough whump in this fandom, so I'd like to propose a 'hella sick Q and a worried Eliot' if you're down for it!"Trigger Warning! There are mentions of blood and injury, but nothing worse than what we see on the show.Season 1-2 AU Where Eliot doesn’t have to marry Fen but has to use a loophole to make her a queen to put a Fillorian on the throne instead of Alice.Quentin gets attacked by a magical rose in Fillory. The only cure is True Love's Kiss.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 4
Kudos: 118





	True Love’s Kiss and No More Roses Ever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [justlikeregularchickens](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=justlikeregularchickens).



> Hi folks! This was originally posted on Tumblr, but now I bring it to you here! I cleaned it up a little and added some here and there. I'm not the biggest angst writer, so I hope you enjoy it!  
> Also, look up the meanings of the flowers. You never know what you will learn. ;)
> 
> Comments and Kudos = Love!

* * *

Quentin stared at his bloodstained hand in shock.

Blood dripped off his fingers as his brain tried to comprehend what he was looking at.

He looked down at the wound on his abdomen where the thorn from the gigantic rose was still embedded. His brow furrowed even as he saw the crimson stain bloom and grow across his gray long-sleeved t-shirt. He wasn’t comprehending what he was seeing. It just, uhh, didn’t make sense? One minute he was excitedly tagging along with Benedict to see the famous Fillorian Flower Forest that had not been mapped since the reign of King Rupert…and the next?

Stabbed by flora.

Of course. Why not? Welcome to the shit show that is his life.

Right before it happened, Benedict stared up at the massive red rose in horror. “Oh no. These were supposed to have been eradicated years ago! Your majesty, we must return at once! King Eliot must know of the danger!”

Quentin went to turn but felt a slight pinch at his side. At first, he thought he had been minorly scraped by a passing branch. A nuisance, really, instead of actual pain. He did not expect something that looked like the fucking Basilisk fang in _Harry Potter_ to be sticking out of his body! It didn’t even really hurt…

“Uh, ow?”

It appeared that the rose shot a thorn at him like some nature ninja.

He felt dizzy all of a sudden, even as he heard Benedict’s scared voice from miles away. Why was Benedict miles away? Wasn’t he just there telling them they had to go warn people?

“Your majesty?! King Quentin! You’re bleeding!”

Quentin stumbled and landed on a large mushroom. It made a very cushy seat.

“Yeah, no shnit Sh’lock. Ha, Ben-dict, Sh’lock? Ha. That’d f’nny…”

Even as things became dimmer and more disconnected, he realized his speech was slurring. Slurring was not a good sign.

“Ben-dic…am I hav-ning a str-ah, you know, stroke? Am I hava-ing one?”

Benedict was back and so much closer than he expected him to be. His hands flew like panicked butterflies near the thorn.

“Do I leave it in?! Do I take it out?! I-I don’t know what to do, Your Majesty!”

Quentin knew from hours of _Grey’s Anatomy_ his mom used to watch during his visits with her that leaving the object in was the way to go.

He couldn’t tell that to Benedict, though. His mouth felt too soft to move. He had to watch helplessly as Benedict decisively nodded to himself and yanked the torn out of his side.

In an instant pain became his reality.

* * *

Before that day, if some rando had asked Eliot Waugh, High King of Fillory and the Physical Kids when he was the most afraid, he would make up some lie about a Manhattan bar being out of top-shelf vodka or something like that.

Before that day, if _Margo_ was the one asking, he would tell her in stilted, hushed tones that he couldn’t choose. Every day living with his father in his teenage years was a nightmare. (But he would only disclose that bit of tragic backstory if he was shitfaced and partook of at least two illicit drugs.)

But nothing, nothing could compare to the heart-rendering terror he felt hearing a bloody Quentin’s painful whimpers as Benedict dragged his ragdoll body into the castle.

Eliot didn’t feel himself move. He didn’t make a conscious effort to do anything. He completely blanked on anything that wasn’t Quentin’s upturned face and the blood that **should** be in his body. Yet he found himself on the floor cradling the man in one of his arms as he pressed his very expensive embroidered shirt into the wound.

When Q’s beautiful tear-stained brown eyes finally caught his, his weak, beautiful hand pressed into Eliot’s naked belly.

“El…help…Idunno…”

Something broke inside Eliot’s chest. Something fundamental that he never dared name when it came to Quentin Coldwater. Somewhere between rising panic and despair, a wave of seething anger rose from the depths of his soul.

This is what turned Harvey Dent into Two-Face. From good guy to scary fucking supervillain. You don’t mess with the people they love.

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO HIM?!”

A hush settled over the occupants of the room as Eliot's voice reverberated through the rafters.

Apparently, Margo was the only one with the ovaries to talk. And to send Tick to get the Centaurs. And actually, keep a level head. He really needed to thank her.

“Yeah, what he said! Are we under attack?! Was it assassins?!”

Benedict finally spoke.

“It was the Cupid’s Bow Roses, Your Majesty! They’re back!”

Fen and some servants gasped in horror.

Margo put her hand on her hip.

“A _rose_ tried to shish kebab Quentin?!”

Fen was filling her in on whatever the fuck it was that did this to Q. He didn’t pay attention. While everyone else was talking, Q would mumble some words in between weakly crying out in pain.

“A-a-ah, uh, a th-thorn, El. Ro-ses a-are, hah, danger…ous. Fuc-k roses! Soooo not romantic…”

Eliot, feeling tears slip down his cheeks, he tried to give Quentin some type of comfort.

“Yes, fuck roses. I’ll have every rose burned in the kingdom so you won’t have to look at them again. Would you like that, Q?”

Quentin didn’t answer. Looking exhausted, intense puppy eyes fought to hold eye contact with him for a few more seconds before succumbing to heavy lids. Quentin went entirely limp and passed out in Eliot's arms.

Eliot stared in horror. He let out one large, hysterical, frightened mewl, before shaking Quentin with the arm not desperately trying to give the wound pressure.

“No. No no no no no, you can’t do this to me Q. You can’t. Please. Wake up. WAKE UP!”

At that moment two centaurs showed up and whisked him away.

Sitting bereft on the floor, hands covered in Quentin’s blood, he didn’t move until Margo and Fen pulled him into his rooms for a bath.

* * *

Clean and newly dressed, he met with his queens and the healers to talk about the health of his king.

“Well, Your Majesty, we do have some good news. We stopped the bleeding and healed the wound.”

Eliot sighed with relief…only to feel dread at the panicked faces of both Margo and Fen.

“Okay, so, what now? Isn’t he better?”

Margo grasped at Eliot’s elbow.

“Here’s the gist. The roses? They’re cursed. They were outlawed a long time ago, and everyone thought they were gone. But like herpes, they came back with a vengeance. So while Quentin’s healed…he’s not gonna wake up until we find his one true love to kiss him…”

Eliot blinked, then rubbed at his aching temples.

“ _True Love’s kiss_? Are you fucking kidding me, Bambi?”

“Yeah, no. This is straight out of some Disney bullshit.”

An idea struck.

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be romantic love? We can get his father…or or Julia to-“

Margo just sadly shook her head. Fen was the one who answered though.

“I’m sorry, Eliot. They’re called Cupid’s Bow Roses for a reason. They’re for bringing soul mates together.”

“But that could take years of scouring multiple planes and worlds! What if we never find her?!”

Tick humbly cleared his throat and stepped up.

“If I may, Your Majesty? It is in the nature of the flower to bring true lovers together. That means that he attracted the rose’s thorn because he was _already_ in love with his soul mate, but probably not acting on it.”

Eliot nodded. “Right. We need to find Alice, then.”

That was not going to be easy, though, Things had been strained between everyone since the threesome. Sure, tension and anger lessened with taking down The Beast and the three offenders becoming kings and queen of Fillory. Alice might have gone back to Brakebills saying she forgave Quentin…but that had been months ago. They had not talked since. Who knew if Alice Quinn could be brought back to wake Q?

Eliot needed to know what kind of timeline they had. “Will he be okay like this until we find his true love?”

Again, things did not bode well.

“I’m sorry, but King Quentin has until the stroke of midnight. If he isn’t kissed by his soul mate, he will die.”

It had been a long time since Eliot accidentally used his magic, so when the pitcher and all of the water goblets broke simultaneously, everyone’s loud exclamations were understandable.

The room cleared after that. Margo promised to go off-world to find Alice, while Fen said she would get Quentin a change of clothes.

Right. His clothes were ruined.

Here Eliot was clean and dressed, while Q…

If it wasn’t for the smears of blood and torn cloth, Quentin could be sleeping normally.

The centaurs had done nothing to make him look a little more presentable, and Eliot just fucking wouldn’t have it.

Taking the water from the broken pitcher and a soft cloth, Eliot soothingly sponge-bathed him. It didn't matter that he knew at least five spells off the top of his head that could clean him quicker. Eliot _needed_ to take care of him. It was all he _could_ do. With soft strokes, he paid attention to wipe every trace of dried blood from his skin and made sure to gently clean under his fingernails.

Fen came in the middle of his task, laying what he assumed to be Quentin’s clothes at the foot of the bed (he didn’t even look). She watched him as he combed his fingers through his adorable floppy hair, willing himself not to cry.

“Eliot…kiss him.”

That certainly stopped any tears from falling.

“What?”

Fen said it again.

“Eliot, I’ve seen the way the two of you look at each other. Many have whispered rumors of the two of you being lovers.”

“That’s preposterous. We’re best friends. Men can be close.”

“Yes, men certainly can. But…friends don’t look longingly after the other when they go to separate bedrooms at night.”

Damnit. Fen had caught him.

“So what if I look longingly at him when he goes to bed? He has a very nice ass.”

Fen leveled him a look.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” She said as she flipped her hand towards Quentin’s prone form.

“It’s just me here. What harm could it do to try?”

But that was the harm, wasn’t it? Having full proof that Quentin could never love Eliot as he…felt…for him. If he tried…if he kissed him…and it didn’t work?

It would break him.

He would try to act cool and never speak of it again, but he would live in constant heartache. Sure, lots of sex and booze might dull the pain, but watching Quentin love somebody else after he tried and was proven to not be the one? Yeah…not good.

Fen seemed to actually read his thoughts. (Not literally, of course. They don’t need more than one psychic in their friend group.)

“Don’t you want to do everything to save him?”

How dare she!

He felt himself tremble as he ran one lone fingertip down Q's sweet nose.

“Of course. I would burn this world to the ground if I had to.”

Shaking just a little more, his thumb smooth over Quentin’s slightly chapped lips. ( _When_ , not _if_ , but _**when** _he woke up, he was going to hound him with cups of water and fruit juice to make sure he stayed hydrated.)

“Then kiss him, Eliot. Rule yourself out. I’ll even step outside and not peek. Promise!” Fen didn’t even wait for him to say anything. She just scurried out of the room with a quiet click of the door.

Now it was just the two of them.

Feeling awkward and really needing some cuddle comfort, Eliot slid under the covers and held Quentin close. He pet his arm in slow swoops and breathed in the scent of his hair. Like many times before, he hugged the smaller man close, enveloping him in his arms like he belonged there. Unlike most times, though, Q wasn’t burying his nose into his neck and squeezing hard enough to pop Eliot’s back. It was just…perfect. Quentin hugs are perfect. Quentin just knew how to hug Eliot to make him feel safe and wanted.

What would he do if Quentin didn’t wake up? How could he live in a world that didn’t have his favorite fanboy babbling in his ear?

“Come back to me, sweetheart. Just…let it be me, and I’ll try so hard to make you happy. I promise. I’ll give you soo many orgasms. So, so many. It will be obscene. We’ll be obscene if you just let me wake you up. Okay?”

Eliot steeled himself. Cupping the back of his neck, he placed an achingly tender kiss on his lips.

In stories, it always took a moment of bated breath to see if True Love’s Kiss worked. Often times in movies there was a dramatic moment of dread like it didn’t work before the music picked up and the princess slowly woke.

Yeah…Disney did not prepare him for being pushed immediately on his back and thoroughly, exuberantly ravished by a previously comatose babbling king. It was surreal. How is one expected to react when they go from heartache to having their mouth tongue-fucked by the man they love?

Cradle the newly awake to their body and kiss them back? Well, that is what he did. Or at least tried to do. Quentin kept passionately talking against his lips. The adorkable nerd.

“Oh God, El! Yes, yes, all of that! Jesus Christ, you’re a good kisser... God, I need more...!”

Reluctant as he was, Eliot pushed Quentin far enough above him to look in him the eyes.

“Wait. What the hell just happened?”

Quentin awkwardly shrugged, but his eyes twinkled with merriment and were hot with seduction. Eliot felt his heart swoop and his trousers tighten.

“Uh, nutshell? I could hear everything that was said. And you just **saved** me by being my fucking one true love, seriously what they hell, fanfiction didn’t lie?! Oh, and, ah, you were, umm, you were misguided in trying to bring my ex-girlfriend here to kiss me? I kinda figured out what I felt for you was, well, totally and completely not platonic when I crowned you, oh Mr. Spectacular. I kinda want to blow you now, if that's okay? To, umm, thank my hero and prove how much I really really like that he decided to kiss me?”

Eliot tilted his head and laughed, before pulling Q down into a filthier kiss than before.

“Oh Q, baby, I am so into that idea. However,” he said as he ran his thumbs across the apples of Quentin’s elated cheeks, “I almost lost you today. If you are willing, I feel the need to worship your body and make you scream my name.”

Quentin’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. He didn’t need words, though. Eyes alight, he strongly nodded his head and attacked Eliot’s mouth again.

* * *

A few hours later Margo contacted Fen through a magic mirror spell.

“Shit, I can’t find Alice anywhere. Dean Fogg said she was doing some work-study at the Library.”

Fen blushed and tipped her mirror closer to Quentin’s door. While Margo couldn’t see anything, she certainly _heard_ something. Loud moans and soft sighs floated through the wood of the ornate door.

A devilish smile curled onto Margo's face. “Son of a clit! That sounds awfully like our Q moaning that Eliot’s cock is 'A Magical Gift' ?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Fen said timidly.

“How long has Q been awake?”

“Oh, I’d say a few hours.”

“...and how long have the love birds been at it?”

“Just a little less than that.”

“I don’t think I should be this happy that my best friends are boning….but…huh…True Love, huh?”

* * *

The Cupid’s Bow Roses were very carefully removed from the Fillorian Flower Forest, as well as any normal roses removed from the castle grounds.

On their fiftieth anniversary, Quentin gifted Eliot with a bouquet of red tulips and Peruvian lilies.

* * *

Comments and Kudos= Love!


End file.
